


The Worst Possible Outcome

by SecretScribbles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Date, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Keith gets the flu, M/M, Sickfic, birthday gift, klance, surprise surprise he tries to fight it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretScribbles/pseuds/SecretScribbles
Summary: Keith had been looking forward to this day all week. He planned and prepped and made sure that the weather would be perfect, and he knew for a fact that this day was going to give him the best possible outcome ever. Then, he woke up.
Relationships: Klance - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	The Worst Possible Outcome

**Author's Note:**

> Okie-dokie, so my friend had a birthday and I wanted to celebrate with her even if it was thousands of miles away. She likes sickfics and Klance and fluff SO, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIZZO, I LOVE YOU!

_ Everything hurts, and I’m dying. _

That was the first astute thought that Keith could manage after he realized that there was a marching band practicing in his skull. The pounding came in pulsed time with his heartbeat, and whatever monstrosity it was that had taken residence inside of his sinuses was overflowing out of his nostril and onto his pillow. Sweat dripped off of his neck and down his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine that made a wave of nausea threaten to overtake him. Even without his hand near his face, Keith could already feel heat radiating off of his skin, and the murky feeling in his mouth only worsened his parched throat.

There was no doubt about it. Keith was sick.

_ Nope. _

Keith buried his face into his pillow and took a deep breath through his mouth since his nose was out of order.

_ Not today.  _

After a few minutes of heavily concentrated breathing, Keith opened his eyes under the safety of his blanket and worked to wake himself up. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees to hang his head there, waiting for his eyes to stop spinning in place before he tried to sit up completely. It took much longer than it usually should, but eventually, Keith managed to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

The light from the morning sun peaked in through the cracks of the blinds and threatened bodily torture if Keith so much as looked in their direction, and the dim, florescent lights of the bathroom were no better when he flicked them on. Keith hid behind his hands for the better part of five minutes before the nausea drifted away and he carefully removed his shield to look at himself in the mirror.

It was truly a sight to see, his hair a mess, his skin pallor, eyes sunken and nose akin to Rudolph’s. It didn’t help that fluids were still leaking out of his nostrils and crusties had taken refuge in the corners of his eyes. To top it all off, the sweat had had time to cool thanks to how long it had taken him to get to that point, and now, his nightshirt had a set of pit stains straight out of a comedy show. It was disgusting, but Keith didn’t have a choice, because today was too important to cancel. Today, he had a date with  _ Lance _ .

_ I can be sick tomorrow. _

With his mind made up, Keith turned to the shower (stopping halfway when the world tilted sideways for a second) and set the water for as high as his flamed skin could handle. It helped wonders with his breathing and dried sweat, and Keith ended up spending much longer in there than he usually did. By the end of it, Keith was feeling marginally better, no matter how dizzying the patterns of his carpet was.

There were a handful of pill bottles in Keith’s medicine cabinet, allergy, cold and flu, some aspirin, and like an idiot, he decided to take them all. More than anything, Keith wanted this day to go well, and he couldn’t do that if he were lying in bed fighting off a band of bat wielding ninjas in his brain. He brushed his teeth sluggishly, already deciding that the idea of breakfast was made for heretics and that the mint from his toothpaste would be enough to tide him over until lunch. The scent of Keith’s deodorant was overpowering to his sensitive nose but he knew that he would end up regretting it later if he didn’t put it on, so he slicked up as quick as he could and squished his arms down flat immediately after. As compensation for his heroic act of saving both himself and Lance the terrors of his body odor, he only spritzed on one spray of cologne rather than the recommended three. Shiro wasn’t  _ always  _ right.

There. Halfway done. And his energy reserves were only mostly depleted; go Keith!

It took him a while longer, but eventually, Keith ended up dressed and ready to go by the time he had decided to leave on the day prior. Having woken up late and taken an eternity and a half to get ready, Keith sort of believed that it was a blessing in disguise, seeing as he normally would have worked himself into a tizzy waiting for the departure time to arrive anyhow. This was fine. He could work with this.

Keith managed to make it to the right bus just before the doors could close and he sat down with a huff, breathing deeply to desperately try and stop his brain from spinning around behind his eyes anymore. Once he managed that, a buzzing in his pocket pulled his attention away from the rolling of his belly. A quick text from Lance told him that the boy was also on his way, and that they would most likely meet up at the docks around the same time. Good. This is good.

Thankfully, Keith dozed for a bit on the bus and got in a few extra minutes of blessed sleep on the way to the pier. Honestly, he didn’t know what it was that had woken him up when his stop came (he wants to say a diaper bag hit his head as a mom was getting off but he can’t be sure) but whatever it was, he was grateful, because as soon as he stepped off the bus, Lance was there waiting for him across the street.

A small smile spread over Keith’s lips, the first genuinely good feeling that he’d had all day.  _ God _ , he was beautiful. As Keith began crossing the street, Lance noticed him in the crowd and waved to him, his own smile wide and brighter than the sun. Keith’s heart was speeding for an entirely different reason, now. 

“Hey!” Lance said, eyes alight with glee. “You made it.”

“So did you,” Keith said, then knocked his knuckle into Lance’s shoulder as he passed him. “You ready?”

Lance’s smile, if possible, brightened even further as he turned to follow his date. “Heck yeah, I am!”

And that’s how it was. The sickness was still there, holding Keith back and weighing him down, but it was no match for the great feeling that Lance gave him when his eyes lit up at the sight of cotton candy, or when he smiled after winning a rinky-dink stuffed bear at a shooting game, or the sound of his laugh when he witnessed Keith run straight into a tarp-wall while they were leaving. Who the hell puts a wall beside a game stand, honestly?

Conversation flowed easily, the bickering and the jabs were playful as ever and everything felt right- save for the twirling vision Keith had to shake off every once in a while. Things managed to be perfectly fine for the most part, but every once in a while, Lance kept on looking at him funny. It wasn’t until Keith stumbled over a step down from the ferris wheel that Lance finally said something.

“Are you okay?” He was looking at him with another one of those funny looks, something soft and only slightly concerned.

“What?” Keith asked, feigning ignorance. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go get you that hot dog.”

“You mean ‘us,’ right?” Lance frowned a little, eyeing Keith for a moment. “You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

It took everything in him not to gag at the thought of carnival food coming anywhere near his lips, but somehow, Keith managed it. 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Keith said, laying his hand along Lance’s lower back to guide him to the food court. “Just not a fan of pier food.”

The frown deepened a little bit, but Lance didn’t argue. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Yes. Yes he did. He very much did. The fair games and people were loud and obnoxious and overwhelming, and the air was oversaturated with the smell of sugar and popcorn and people who didn’t understand the concept of deodorant like Keith did, and every cell in his body was screaming at him to stop, lay down, get help,  _ please _ , but Keith simply couldn’t do that. Lance was having fun, and that meant more to Keith than having to deal with everything else.

“I don’t mind it,” Keith said, honestly.

It was the honesty that saved him, because the next thing he knew, Lance was trying (and failing) to fight down a blush while biting down a smile. “What if we went somewhere else for lunch?”

Keith shrugged, more interested in the idea of sitting down at a table than stuffing his face. “Sounds good.”

This time, Lance didn’t bother to hide his smile as he slowed to match Keith’s pace and bumped their shoulders together. For half a step, Keith lost his footing, but he quickly regained it when the back of Lance’s hand brushed up against his. Again, Lance frowned.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Keith assured, then proved it by lacing his fingers with Lance’s.

This only served to furrow Lance’s brow. “Oh wow, you’re really hot.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Lance snorted at that. “Smooth.”

“I try,” Keith said with a grin.

As they walked, Lance picked up conversation again, and Keith listened as best he could. The longer they walked, though, the harder it was for him to focus. And walk. And breathe. And-

“Keith?”

Keith turned to look at Lance but once again, his feet stumbled and he bumped into Lance.

“I’m fine.”

“Keith!”

“I’m f…”

And it all went black.

(~˘▾˘)~

~(˘▾˘~)

(~˘▾˘)~

  
  


It was easier to open his eyes this time due to the pounding in his head having faded to a dull drumming instead. For a moment, Keith lay there blinking and trying to understand just how clean his ceiling had gotten without him having to touch it. There was no way his landlord had dared to lift a finger for him. Maybe he had done it in his sleep. Stranger things have happened.

The absurdities of his thought process would have continued on if he hadn’t noticed the smell next. It was clean, too clean, like detergent and bleach and medicine. The sound of people in the distance alerted him of a busy hallway to his right, and when he turned to look, he found Lance sitting in a particularly uncomfortable chair beside his bed. At his movement, Lance looked up and smiled painfully at Keith, offering up a shy wave. Keith immediately scowled.

“Damn it.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed quietly.

Keith rolled his head back straight to hold his arm across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Lance said, his voice light and playful. “Lucky for you, I got my flu shot, so no Keith cooties for me.”

Keith groaned at this and tried to disappear under his arm for good.

“Doc said you could go home if it wasn’t too serious after you woke up, but he also wanted to check on you before you were released,” Lance explained. “Should I go get him?”

Saying nothing, Keith nodded under the safety of his arm.

“Okay,” Lance said, his voice going soft again. “Be right back.”

The sound of Lance getting up and walking away sent stones down into Keith’s gut. This was the  _ worst _ possible outcome he could have imagined and Keith just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide for the next millenia. The date was a disaster, and he had no one to blame but himself. Lance would never go out with him now.

More than once, Keith swallowed down saliva with every roll of emotion that tried to escape from him, because he’d be damned if he allowed himself to cry in front of Lance. It was a struggle, but he managed to keep his eyes dry. A few minutes later, Lance had returned with the doctor and waited patiently for Keith to get his Get Out Of Jail Free card. Shortly thereafter, Keith was released with a shot and antibiotics, and Lance walked with him out of the ER.

The walk to the bus stop was uncomfortable as Keith berated himself over and over again for screwing up what could have been a great relationship. Lance let him sulk for a bit, but when the bus pulled up and they sat down, he bumped his knee into Keith’s with a mischievous smirk.

“If you feel sick, just remember to aim away from me,” Lance joked.

Keith nodded, his head hung low with his mood. “I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, come on,” Lance chided. “It’s alright.”

“I ruined your day,” Keith said.

That gave Lance pause, and he looked up and away for a moment to gather his response. “Yeah, okay, I admit, you scared the crap out of me when you fell face first onto the pier. That really wasn’t fun; you’re right on that part.” He stopped to show off another playful grin. “Though for a second there I figured it was because you wanted to kiss the pavement more than me.”

Keith shrank into himself even further. He really was the shittiest date.

Once again, silence built up between them while Keith wallowed in his misery, but to be fair, it was mostly in and out of consciousness. This time he knew it was Lance who had woken him up for his stop, and Keith was sent into another tailspin of guilt when he realized Lance had skipped his stop to see Keith home. Damn, this guy was too good. 

With heavy steps, Keith climbed up to his apartment and unlocked his door, not even bothering to kick off his shoes or lock the door behind him. He simply trudged to his bedroom and flopped down face first into his bed. He stayed there a moment, motionless and sulking until he heard the sound of his front door finally closing shut. Then, it was like the damn had exploded.

Keith grabbed his pillow and pushed his face into it to scream, kicking his feet and wiggling his shoulders back and forth to push out all of his frustrations. Today was a disaster. And there was no going back.

As these thoughts swirled around in his head, Keith turned his head to the side and sniffled, finally allowing himself to release his disappointment in increments. His exhaustion and medication were too strong for him to properly let loose, however, because as the first and only tear slipped down his cheek, Keith himself slipped into a heavy sleep.

(~˘▾˘)~

~(˘▾˘~)

(~˘▾˘)~

_ “High-five, RM…” _

Keith blearily opened his eyes to the sight of his hand sticking out in front of him waiting for the phantom high-five and sighed in disappointment. He knew his dreams were too good to be true. Letting his hand fall flat, Keith closed his eyes again to allow himself a moment of rest before trying to move. It was a nice thought, at least, until he heard his Pandora playing in the background, most likely forgotten on the TV from that morning.

_ No wonder I dreamt of BTS. _

Sighing again, Keith decided that it wasn’t too much of an issue to worry about and decided to continue his impression of a sloth for the rest of his life, if need be. He was still sore and ikky, but at least now he wasn’t craving death. Guess that medicine helped out a bit. He could even breathe better- enough to smell something that shouldn’t have been there.

Keith froze. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember turning on his music that morning. It could easily have been forgotten in his corpse-like state from before, but he sure as hell knew that he didn’t cook anything. The smell of food wafting in the air told him otherwise.

Carefully, Keith rose up onto his hands and twisted in bed to try and see through his bedroom door. The corner of his living room showed nothing, but more sounds were coming from outside that alerted Keith. Leaving the bed, Keith stepped cautiously out of his room, finding his shoes removed and tucked neatly by his bedroom door. He snuck around the corner, trying to remain as quiet as possible so as not to spook whatever ghosty it was that had invaded his apartment. When he came into view, he saw the back of Lance swaying and dancing in his kitchen.

What.

Keith blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again.

Yeah. Yeah, that was definitely Lance in his kitchen. He was humming along with Keith’s music, standing in front of the stove and stirring something in a pot, completely oblivious to Keith’s presence. This has to be another dream.

Lance leaned to put back some spices he had found in Keith’s drawer and noticed the man from the corner of his eye, turning a smile to him full blast.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty!”

Keith frowned, confused and slightly convinced that he was still dreaming. “What are you doing here?”

There was a physical reaction to Lance’s expression, ticking his head back a little with a snort as though it were obvious. “You’re sick.”

“Which is exactly why you should  _ not  _ be here,” Keith said.

“Oh, Keith.” Lance stopped what he was doing to stare at him, wearing a sage expression and using what Keith would describe as a Disappointed Mom voice. “You poor, naive potato.” He pointed to the living room. “Go sit on the couch.”

Okay, one:  _ Potato? _ And two: This was Keith’s place, and yet Lance had made himself right at home, to the point of ordering Keith around. To be honest, Keith didn’t mind the sight of Lance in his kitchen, but still. What was he  _ doing  _ there?

“How did you get in here?” Keith asked, sitting down on the couch as ordered.

“Oh, wow, you really were out of it,” Lance snickered, his back turned as he ladled out whatever it was he had been stirring into two bowls. “I followed you in here, dude. I figured you knew I was behind you since you left the door open, but I guess not.”

Keith’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around to try and find a clock of any sort around his apartment. “How long have you been here?”

Lance hummed, looking up in thought as he walked over to the couch and handed Keith his bowl, setting his own aside. “About two hours? I’m not entirely sure, I sort of lost track of time reading fanfic for a bit.”

Instead of sitting down with Keith on the couch, Lance walked into Keith’s room like he owned the place and came out a moment later with the comforter off of Keith’s bed. He gingerly flared it out behind Keith’s back and wrapped it around his shoulders before taking up his own bowl and sitting down on the couch beside Keith as well, grabbing the Roku remote and immediately switching off of Pandora in favor of Amazon Prime.

This was unbelievable. Keith stared openly at Lance, unable to compute what was going on.

“ _ Two hours? _ ” he asked slowly.

“Mhm,” Lance said, his eyes on the screen in search of something to watch. “You looked like you needed the rest. Especially when you kept drifting off on the bus.” He finally turned to look at Keith. “And after hearing how out of it you actually were, I think it’s safe to say I was right.”

Keith blinked, still uncomprehending. He looked down to his lap, a bowl of fresh, hot chicken soup waiting for him, and his blanket wrapped carefully around his shoulders. His bag of meds lay on the side table ready for him to take after eating, alongside a bottle of water that looked to have been sitting there for a bit. And there was Lance. Sitting on his couch. Uncaring of it all.

“You made me soup.”

Lance flicked his gaze over to him. “What?”

“And got my medicine,” Keith went on, almost as though not hearing Lance. “You’re taking care of me.”

This time, it was Lance’s turn to blink. “Yeah?”

Keith frowned, incredulous.  _ “Why?” _

Now Lance frowned as he turned to Keith, looking somewhat offended at being asked about his caring nature. “Because I want to.”

“But I ruined our date,” Keith said bluntly. “I made you take me to the hospital.”

“Yeah, definitely in my top ten worst date ideas ever, dude,” Lance said, cocking a brow at him. Then, his expression morphed with a grin. “But it sure was memorable, I’ll give you that.”

“‘Memorable’?” Keith asked, the dread already building up.

“Yup,” Lance said, widening his grin. “I really don’t know how I’m going to top it. Didn’t think of that, now did you? Rude, Keith. Rude.” With that, Lance turned back towards the TV and nestled down into the couch, wiggling a bit to get comfortable between the pillows. “I hope you like Mister Rodgers because I’m in a mood for nostalgia.”

_ A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood _ began playing and Lance settled in with his dinner as Tom Hanks came onto the screen. Keith, still in a state of shock, stared for just a moment longer before his gaze dropped back down to his lap, and slowly, ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth began to twitch upward. 

This most definitely  _ wasn’t  _ the worst possible outcome he could have imagined.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and had a great birthday :)  
> (Sorry it's late)  
> Also, the Easter eggs. I had so much fun with those X]
> 
> Tell me what you think, I love hearing from you guys!


End file.
